


Battle of Wit

by rancheel



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Arguing, Confessions, Established Relationship, Eye of Agamatto, F/M, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Stephen Strange, Love Confessions, Magic-Users, Near Death Experiences, Possible Character Death, Post-Doctor Strange (2016), Stephen Strange & Wong Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rancheel/pseuds/rancheel
Summary: Stephen realizes after your most recent battle that he can't lose you, no matter the circumstance. He's just... terrible at expressing his feelings properly.
Relationships: Stephen Strange & Reader, Stephen Strange/Original Character(s), Stephen Strange/Original Female Character(s), Stephen Strange/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 106





	Battle of Wit

“I had it under control—”

“No, you didn’t, actually,” Stephen seethed, cutting you off smoothly as he opened a portal that led into one of the Sanctum’s rooms that was designated to hold the Eye of Agamotto. “You didn’t have _anything_ under control.”

You scoffed as you walked through the static ring, Stephen soon following after you before the portal snapped shut. He was quick to send his cloak flying off his shoulders to the door that was open leading into the New York Sanctum, walking ahead of you to properly place the Eye where it belonged.

So what, you’d gotten in on his fight? Sure you ended up with a few scratches and bruises, but you _won_ , didn’t you?

“I think you’ll find I _did_ , Stephen. Who was the one who was out of commission because they were helping Wong?”

You knew it was a low blow, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Stephen turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, letting his gaze zero in on your form. “I _had_ it. I just had to get Wong to help with a—”

“You can make all the excuses you want!” You exclaimed, holding your arms out in exasperation. “You just don’t want to admit that I helped you out.”

You watched Stephen tense up as he turned his head back to the task he had in front of him. The Eye was officially off of his body and in his hands, held in mid-air as he stopped placing it on it’s small podium to hear you speak.

 _“Me_ , someone with mediocre skills in the Mystic Arts but exceptional skill with defeating arrogant, asshole doctor’s who don’t seem to know how to admit they need help.”

The laugh that Stephen was emitting made your stomach twist with fear, but you stood your ground. Your words and his laughter lingered between you two for a long time as he took his time placing the Eye on it's small podium. You tried to brace yourself for what was to come.

You knew what you did was stupid. You've understood that at this point, having the guilt start to claw its way up to your throat to take back what you said. But you had to keep reminding yourself that you were also _right_. Yes, you were running on pure adrenaline when you finished the fight—which you didn't _expect to do._ Your hand is still pulsating with pain from the final blow for chrissakes! You're shocked you even put some of your fighting to use—

"If I needed help out there," Stephen started lowly, finally turning to face you completely. His jaw was clenched tightly due to his rising anger, you assumed. He looked... terrifying in this moment. You know you shouldn't feel this way about your significant other _ever_ in a relationship - but this wasn't a normal relationship. "I would have _asked._ "

His voice was almost like cleaning your wounds. Painful, stinging pain that made you flinch the second it touched the open skin. Almost like you were grinding salt into it.

Stephen wasn't happy. Not at all.

"Really? You would have?" You questioned rhetorically. "Because out there, just 20 minutes ago, you didn't."

"Because I needed Wong to do the spell to finish Doom off!" Stephen shouted. You couldn't help but take few steps back, squaring your shoulders as you took a deep breath. Stephen watched you closely as you stopped to breathe before he just let out a harsh sigh and let his hands run through his hair.

His hands stopped shy of the top of his head to tug at the roots slightly.

"I needed Wong for the spell. I had to step away, that's why I knocked him down. Then _you—_ " Stephen pointed at you accusingly while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose "— _you_ came in and beat him to a pulp! I'm not saying that I wasn't grateful, as a matter of fact, it was amazing. But you can't just _do that!_ "

"And why not?" You shot back, your own voice starting to rise in volume. "Why can't I? I was saving your ass. Do you want me to just let you get killed?!"

"No, but—"

"He had already blocked your powers once in the fight, Stephen," you seethed, keeping your hands balled tightly at your sides. "What could you have done then?"

You watched Stephen try to find the words to reply before you held your hand up in front of your neck, making a sort of cutting motion in front of it, " _nothing_. Not even your hands would be able to help you then. I don't even know what Wong's capable of, but we both know he was out of commission after Doom hypnotized him. I was the last resort. I was the one who had to do something to be sure we all didn't end up fucking _dead_ in the Mirror Dimension!"

Your throat ached once you were finished shouting, overworked easily from the emotion that's been bubbling inside of you since you stepped foot in the Sanctum. The tension was thick enough between the two of you to cut it with a knife. You hated these moments with Stephen. You truly did, but the idea of Stephen dying in the hands of Victor von Doom was enough nightmare fuel to keep you up for a few nights for sure. You didn't need to question that.

Taking in a deep breath you tried to calm down the stinging in your eyes, tears threatening to spill over your waterline. 

"If you're going to blame me for saving you, then fine. Whatever. But do not think for a _second_ —" you stopped momentarily to try and steady your voice, swallowing thrice before continuing "—that I'd just sit in the sidelines and let you and our friend die."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, ignoring the searing pain from your wounds you'd sustained from the fight as your face contorted. Stephen wasn't even looking at you now. He was looking at the ground, jaw still clenched. It was like he was thinking. He reminded you of a character in a video game who has been left idle while the player went out of the room to get something. Regardless, you knew you somehow got through to him. If Wong weren't back at Kamar-Taj getting taken care of after being taken over by Doom's power, he would be on your side. You knew he would, because he wasn't as stubborn as your lover. He knew when to admit defeat, and wouldn't be determined to do it himself.

"You're not alone, Stephen," you started slowly, gently. A few careful steps towards him made you realize that his anger had dissipated a substantial amount. "You can ask for help. I would be there in a heartbeat."

Stephen all but twitched when you finally decided it was okay to place a gentle hand on his forearm that had the fabric of his robes clinging to him.

It was in this moment you realized that the battle was one of the hardest the three of you had attempted to date. None of you had been prepared for Victor von Doom in the slightest. You were flying blind for the most part. Hell, Stephen and Wong didn't even know about Doom's ability to successfully perform mind transference until it _happened._

"You.. You..." Trying to find the words you were wanting to say started to become hard. You were quiet for a while after you said that, trying to pick apart your brain to actually _speak_. "You can pass the weight of the world on your shoulders to me. To Wong. We've both signed up for this Mystic Arts gig just like you."

Stephen stayed silent. You didn't blame him. Now that your anger has dissipated, you really dug into him and the guilt that was absent from your throat had returned in full force. 

Regret, you realized. That's what you were feeling. Stephen was a capable sorcerer. He was _so_ goddamn smart, he knew what he was doing. Well, for the most part. You do think what you had done was necessary in the end still, since Doom was already getting back up on his feet as Stephen tried to see how to help Wong.

But everything you'd said definitely felt as if you were belittling Stephen.

You let out a wet laugh, the tears you were holding finally making it past your waterline dreadfully fast. You were just as quick to sniffle and wipe the tears with the heel of your hand, reminding yourself to breathe.

"Could you say something, maybe? I... I feel like I've been talking to a brick wall for the past few minutes, honey."

The nickname is what pulled Stephen out of his... whatever it was. His eyes looked how they usually did when he started crying—glassy, red-rimmed and swollen with tears that had been rolling down his cheeks freely.

You've seen Stephen like this few times in your relationship. And in this moment? You thought it was because of you. Your words you used in the heat of the fight, cutting the man you loved—which you have _never_ openly admitted—deep enough to make tears pull from his tear ducts and roll down his beaten and bruised face.

As if he wasn't hurt enough after this fight.

"S-Stephen I—"

"I love you."

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to apologize for most of the things you said, maybe even cry yourself. But.. he just said those three little words that you'd both been toeing around since last month.

It felt like your heart stopped. Then exploded. And then stopped again before slamming hard against your chest. "You.. You _what?"_

"I," Stephen started again shakily, his hands moving to cup your cheeks in his shaking hands, "love you."

Your heartbeat continued pounding in your ears. 

"W-Wait," you cleared your throat and let your hand that was on his forearm fall, carefully tilting your head up to finally make eye contact. "This isn't a joke, right? You're not... You're not just saying this because you and I just had some kind of-of.. of a fight?"

Stephen sniffled quietly then, shaking thumbs swiping at the tears that were still descending down your face gently - almost as if he were handling glass. "I'm serious."

"You _love_ me?" You asked softly. Quietly, filled with all of the emotion you'd held back just mere minutes ago to stand your ground. Stephen was never one to mix work and play—and you thought this was no exception.

"Yes." Stephen's watery laugh filled your ears then. "I love you. That's—That's why I was angry. You.. You risked your life for me and Wong today. It made me realize how easy it could be to lose you. And I don't want that to happen; I never want to lose you."

If this were a normal conversation—between a man and a woman who have been together for a year and a few months—you wouldn't be giggling like an idiot with your vision being clouded with tears. Okay, maybe you would. It just seemed inappropriate to giggle in this moment. You were _giggling_. Stephen Strange just admitted he loves you. After you've just _yelled_ at him after a battle that rendered one of your friends back in the hands of the healers back at Kamar-Taj.

And he said he loves you.

"You are _such_ an—"

"I know, I know," Stephen said quickly, cutting you off with a dull chuckle as he leaned forwards to press his forehead gently to your own, not caring about the cut on his skin. "I'm an idiot. _Your_ idiot, however."

You let your shoulders droop, finally relieving them from the tension you were still carrying. One of your hands easily cupped Stephen's while the other slowly wrapped around his wrist, trying to get your emotions together to properly respond to your boyfriend's confession.

"You are." You knew your face contorted into a fond look as you squeezed his wrist gently. He huffed out a laugh as the blanket of silence enveloped you comfortably unlike earlier.

"Aren't you gonna say you love me back?" Stephen teased quietly, his eyes flicking down to look at your lips. You snorted and let your eyes fall shut as you leaned some of your weight against him.

"Well—"

"Oh god, here we go," Stephen quipped.

"Hey! I'm trying to pull a _I know_ on you here," you complained playfully, snapping your eyes open to glare at Stephen.

"Sweetheart, as much as I love you, I don't think you'd pull a Leia on me."

You jutted your bottom lip out into a pout, your brows slowly scrunching up as you did so which caused your forehead to bump into Stephen's. He was quick to hiss, pulling his head back from your own to bring a hand up to hover over where his cut was. Your hands were quick to fall from their spots. 

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" You exclaimed, laughter trying to cut through your words. "I-I didn't think I would hit it!"

Stephen couldn't help but start laughing with you, trying to hold you back slightly before you went all "doctor mode" on him as you usually would after missions like these. "You're fine! It's fine."

Eventually, your laughter died down into gentle wheezing before you forced your way into Stephen's arms, now cupping his face in your hands to mainly inspect the damage on his face. He had the cut on his forehead that was surrounded with bumps and bruises, as well as a few little scrapes. You sighed gently.

"What am I going to do with you, Stephen?"

Stephen didn't hesitate to let his hands wrap around your waist slowly, as if to test the waters, letting out a hum. "I can think of a few things."

You rolled your eyes then, letting your hands clasp together behind his head to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer once more. You wanted a kiss more than anything at this point, even if you had a bit of a cut lip. A kiss from the man that loved you.

"Stop it. If you think _anything_ R-rated is happening between us tonight, you're dead wrong," you admonished. "We've both got injuries, Stephen."

"C'mon," Stephen urged gently, his hands sliding to flatten at your sides, squeezing your curves under his fingertips, "you've never turned down the shower stuff before."

"Well then today's the day I'm turning it down. Because I'd rather hurt now rather than later."

The face Stephen pulled would have made you laugh if you weren't looking at him so fondly, your mind reeling back to what he said what felt like seconds ago. Those three little words he said were replaying in your head again. Your heart skipped a beat by how giddy you were becoming just by the mere thought of Stephen saying those words to you. It hadn't occurred to you that you were zoned out completely then, Stephen gently saying your name as he shook you a little.

You were quick to blink a bit, letting a smile bloom on your face before you let go of your hands to slide them to his shoulders. 

"Say it again," you demanded softly, letting your nails dig into the fabric under your fingertips. "Please."

Stephen definitely didn't get what you meant until your eyes moved from looking up into his own, to looking at his lips. You were thankful he decided to grant your wish when he gently said your name, easily pressing the length of his body against yours.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, your whole heart basically evacuating your body through your words. You _loved_ him. Stephen Strange. The Master of The Mystic Arts. Who ever this man was before, and whoever this man was now, you loved him. That much was evident to the both of you in this moment.

Stephen took a moment to mutter something under his breath before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a searing kiss. As intense as the kiss was, his lips were soft against your own, despite the fact that yours were most definitely weathered from the battle. One of his hands found their spot back on your cheek as Stephen tilted his head to deepen the kiss in the moment before started to pull away to giggle again.

"What?" Stephen questioned quietly. You just shrugged as you kept your eyes shut, feeling Stephen's gaze trail over your face.

"My lips probably feel _terrible_ to you—"

Stephen groaned playfully then, holding back a chuckle. "You need to _stop_ with these one liners when we're having a moment, sweetheart."

"You love me for it!" You exclaimed, opening your eyes now to finally catch the fond look Stephen was giving you.

"I do."

"Does this mean we can get patched up now? As attractive as you look all beaten and... _rugged_ , you should really get cleaned up before something gets infected," you explained, pulling back until Stephen's arms stopped you, gesturing to his whole get up. "I don't need you getting sick again on me."

"Fine. As long as you're the one patching me up, I don't care," Stephen sighed dramatically, letting you go but making sure to grab your hand with his own gently. You grinned at the fact that you didn't have to try and push the offer to him any more than you already did.

You were quick to get up to his height momentarily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before starting to lead him to the open door that led you two home. In the back of your mind, you knew you would have to have a more adult conversation about earlier once the two of you have rested and cleaned up a bit later in the evening. This wasn't just something you could ignore easily after a heartfelt confession. But you weren't as afraid as you were when the argument started.

Because he loved you. That's all you needed to remember as you headed into this new stage of your relationship with Stephen Strange.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote all of this to the OBCR of Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 as I lost my mind after drinking one single cup of dark roast coffee. I don't know how that happened, but it did and I'm alive to tell the tale, so.. I hoped you enjoyed!


End file.
